


Mind~Prompts

by MindTrove



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Forest Fluff, Prompt Fic, Sad, Sad Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6808591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindTrove/pseuds/MindTrove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is where I'll be posting all the prompts that I get.</p><p>Some sweet, some smutty, most of them sad...probably</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Go Yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrazyBoneLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyBoneLady/gifts), [Smuttine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smuttine/gifts), [EmmG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmG/gifts).



> Was prompted on tumblr to do a sad forest fluff fic with Abelas and Ramia
> 
> First prompt so this was fun to do!
> 
>  
> 
> Prompt: Writing? > Abelas/Ramia Secret-Forest-Fluff, maybe mix a little byebye-pain into it. Shape this to your liking. I just love these two <3

Ramia felt skittish the entire journey towards the west of Fereldan.

Picking up where her mother left off had not been easy. It had been trying, but she felt she was really making progress in being a leader and getting a foothold in the fight against Solas.

Until she learnt her scouts had gone missing.

Elvhen ruins were a popular destination for weapons against Solas, ‘rife with goodies and information of the magical kind’ Ramia had put it to her subordinates. Which was why she sent them to the Brecillian Forest. While the Hero of Fereldan had left their mark on the place, she was sure something could be salvaged. The Dwarven Commander of the Grey Wardens never held much interest for ancient elvhen magic after all.

The forest was cold. Much colder in comparison to Arlathan Forest, that had bordered on being more of a jungle. But the Brecillian was just as lush in its own humble way, although compared to the sparse woods of her childhood it would seem so.

She knew her current company were nervous, whispers among them that the Dread Wolf’s men were responsible for the loss of their previous scouts spreading. Which was why she volunteered to join them, she couldn’t afford another failure. Perhaps fighting and journeying alongside their leader would boost morale.

High morale however, could not repel an arrow to the face.

Which was how the first of her men fell. But she had archers of her own, and the attacker was brought falling down from the tree he hid in by one of her own. Suddenly there were dozens of them, their golden armour leaving no doubt in her mind what she had been dreading. But before she could join in the fray a hand was at her wrist.

“No! We will deal with them Lavellan! The ruins aren’t too far ahead; we will join there! Hurry!”

“But-!”

“GO!” Her scout roared as he sent his hammer crashing down to an agent at his feet. Ramia nodded but not before setting temporary wards to aid her companions. Then she was off in a sprint, her feet taking her where her frazzled mind was too high on adrenaline to pay attention. The sound of clashing steel and battle cries becoming more and more distant the further she ran.

When the sounds finally died down she allowed herself a moment, clutching her staff close and taking in her surroundings. Birds chirping in the trees and animals scurrying through bushes helped ease her mind. They seemed nonchalant of their surroundings, which was always a good sign.

The forest was becoming slightly denser, but it was still early in the afternoon with sunlight pouring down to light her way.

“Ok Ramia, let’s find that ruin before something bigger than a rabbit decides to show up.”

Ramia walked for what felt like hours, but was delighted when she came upon a river. ‘Follow the river and it will always lead you where you need to go’ Keeper Deshanna always said. She took its path, walking through the cool water as it soothed her aching feet.

The stream led her not to any ruins, but a small grove. The trees blocking most sunlight so it only came out in streaks, the pollen dancing in the rays of light. A small pond was at the centre and Ramia cursed at herself, knowing she had gone the wrong way.

“So much for being Dalish,” She groused. Dumping her backpack and staff to the ground. “Can’t even find my way through a fucking forest.”

“Yes, very embarrassing.”

Ramia whipped her head at the voice, feet frozen to the spot.

“Abelas?”

Abelas did not immediately answer her question, when he took one step forward Ramia ran for her staff. Her eyes were trained on him, cautious and ready to fight. Abelas regarded her with slight disappointment.

“You believe I would hurt you da’lath’in?”

“Yes! No…I don’t know…”

The more she spoke the hurt she felt, angry to not have seen him for so long. Angry that he still stared at her with that fondness he always did. Like he was always holding back. It was a sad kind of affection and she hated it. She hated feelings she couldn’t understand for a man who was meant to be her enemy. She took another step back when he pushed forward, his eyes forlorn but a smile quirked on his lips.

“Da’lath’in…”

“No,” She said again. “No…” He was closer now and her breathing quickened her staff held to the side, her stance a threat for violence on his person. “I swear Abelas I will hit you!”

Abelas took her hand, his smile sweeter when she didn’t pull away. Her head hung low to hide from his gaze.

“You don’t get to fuck off then show up like nothing happened.” Ramia growled, not resisting arms that circled her. His chin resting atop her head, a hand rubbing up and down her back in soothing patterns.

“I know. Our meeting is by chance, but I cannot pretend it is not a pleasant surprise,” Abelas pulled her face up, hands cradling each cheek. Her face an angry pout that endeared him. “I am sorry my presence does not bring you the same comfort.” He spoke, a thumb rubbed against her eye and captured a tear before it could fall.

“I want to be happy to see you Abelas.”

“Then be happy, was it not you who prides themselves on taking solace when they can?”

“Don’t you have men to rescue? Those agents in the forest are with you are they not?”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Hmm…we’re both being really shit at our jobs today then, aren’t we?”

“If it brings you relief, my men have retreated, most of your own still live.”

Ramia breathed a sigh of relief, taking the moment to rest against the hand at her cheek. A welcome comfort. Having Abelas so close filled her with warmth and a fire in her belly. Feeling bold she kissed the palm of his hand, the muscles there tightening at the contact. She kissed him there again, her eyes glancing up to look at the sentinel’s face. There was a heavy look there, a hungry stare when she moved further kiss his wrist.

“I have missed you y’know? Despite how bratty I’m being.”

Abelas gave a low hum in the back of his throat, his thumb tracing her lower lip. Plump, and giving his thumb a sweet kiss before parting slightly. An invitation, a question. And his answer, a rub along her tongue, their decision sealed like her lips around his appendage.

“You are a troublesome woman.”

Ramia could only moan in reply, her cheeks flushed and hallowed as he thrust his thumb back and forth in a suggestive manner. She had forgotten how good it felt, how he could always stir her up so and bring out that need from her body. She opened her eyes to stare into his own, knowing he enjoyed this just as much as she did, wondering how badly he’d rather thrust something with much more girth across her probing tongue.

Suddenly he had her up against a tree, Ramia giving a gasp in surprise that ended on a giggle. Open-mouth and breathy with his thumb still in her mouth. She grasped his hand with both her own, continuing to place panting kisses, overwhelmed. Abelas had always been good with his fingers.

“I forgot how much you loved it when I played with your hands.”

She gave another arrogant laugh before she was silence with a bruising kiss. Her toes curling at the sudden surge of assertiveness Abelas was delivering. She was so used to always having to pull him in that this made a nice change. She threw her arms around him when he pushes his tongue past her lips, moaning long and deep into his mouth. Pulling down his hood and running her fingers through the long white hair atop his scalp, squealing when he hoisted her legs around his waist.

Abelas raked his fingers through her hair, breathing through his nose because he refused to part with her eager lips. Her small mewls of excitement as she pressed rubbed against him, stirring him and pulling out groans from him. Ramia pulled at his lower lip with her teeth, before angling for a deeper and fuller embrace. Gasping his name when he shifted his attention to her neck to suckle and nibble at her pulse.

When they finally parted they paused in place, their eyes searching and their breaths mingling together. The smile on Abelas’ face slowly drifted, Ramia’s own mirroring his expression. Ramia cocked her head to the side as he placed her back down on the ground.

“It is probably best not to,”

“Wait!”

Ramia pulled at him back, burying her face against him.

“Ramia…”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Abelas bent on one knee to be at eye-level, pressing his forehead against her. “Just don’t go yet, please.”

Ramia kissed him again, slow and hesitant. It took so much strength for Abelas to pull away, shaking his head and pulling her hands away.

“I can’t da’lath’in…we can’t.”

Ramia pulled her lower lip between her teeth to bite back from crying, releasing his hands and turning away from Abelas. She wanted to respect his wishes. But this felt like an old dance, one where she cared too much and he too little. And she was done pretending to be understanding.

“Fine. Go then.”

“Ramia, please…”

“Just go,” Her eyes were harder now as she picked up her staff and pack, ignoring the feeling of his gaze burning into her back. “I wish you’d just stop acting like you care.”

“What do you want me to do Ramia?!”

Ramia’s eyes jolted wide at the sudden rise in Abelas’ voice. So unexpected and so unlike him.

“Do you think I enjoy this? Do you think this does not hurt me?!”

She couldn’t speak, she didn’t know what to say to his questions. All she could do was stare. Abelas it seemed, was not content to stand in silence.

“Do you think I do not care about our predicament? Do you think I am proud to stand at the Dread Wolf’s side and plot against you?! That if we restore Elvhenan you will die?!”

Abelas’ face was contorted in frustration and pain, so unfamiliar with laying his feelings bare. His mind was screaming at him to silence himself, but the words continued to escape him.

“And if you win?” He gave a disheartened chuckle. “You will have what? Fifty? Sixty more years to your life?” He was pacing now and then his gaze was fixed on her again. “Do you even understand how fleeting that span is to me? That I would have to watch you wither and die and be unable to stop it!” He knew he would come to regret his next words but it was too late to stop them.

“What we have was doomed from the start Ramia. This should never have started.”

“Then why are we doing this Abelas?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!!!”

Abelas ripped himself away from her direction, hands running through his scalp and willing himself to calm down. Ramia’s gave a weak sigh, her gaze softening as she watched him struggle with himself.

“Abelas,” Ramia pulled him aside to the pond, urging him to clear his face and calm himself, a hand on his knee as the other rubbed across his shoulder. “Breathe.” Abelas buried his face in her hair, his hand gripping her own as it held him.

“I don’t know Ramia. I have told myself a thousand times to end this, to not encourage it but…”

“I’m sorry Abelas.”

“As am I.”

“We could…” Ramia gave a long deep breath, pulling her hands away. “We could stop this now…”

“We won’t.” Abelas confessed, staring into the pond and taking hold of Ramia’s hand for comfort.

“No…I guess not.”

Both of them rose to their feet, the air around them tense. ‘Come here’ Ramia whispered, urging Abelas to bend down as she planted a soft kiss to his temple. Hushing him with he took a sharp intake of breath.

“I have already searched the ruins you seek,” Abelas started, standing at full height and preparing to leave. “There is nothing there.”

Ramia tightened her grip on her staff, her heart heavy as she watched his back. She wanted to speak up, call back to him and confess to him. To get the ache out of her chest.

“Abelas?”

The words died in her throat when she saw the misery in his eyes, the slumped shoulders. He waited expectantly for her, but instead she shook her head, eyes downcast.

“Nevermind, it’s fine…” She gave one last smile that never reached her eyes. “Dareth Shiral.”

“Goodbye Da’lath’in.”


	2. Fucking Patries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ShakenVeil wanted Solas to deal with the not so fun side of parenting.  
> And ultimatly learns nothing.
> 
> Prompt: Solas being left alone with Laisa having a child typical raging attack. For whatever reason, something totally stupid. Because I feel his pain in this, too.

Solas was gladdened in Moro’s reluctance waning when it came to sharing meals together. He had always enjoyed such moments back during their time together with the Inquisition. Having the addition of their daughter in the mix gave him a chance to put his duties in the back of his mind, to enjoy more pleasant times. Regardless of the strain his relationship with Moro had 

Moro had been slightly under the weather the past few days, a simple feeling of unpleasantness she had assured him. Nonetheless Solas insisted they take breakfast in her room on the balcony instead of having her travel to the other side of the palace where the gardens and dining rooms were. The change of scenery made no difference to Laisa as she chatted away about her lessons Solas had insisted she take while she was here.

Every now and then Moro would chide at her as her porridge laid forgotten, too absorbed in her conversation to tuck into it. Solas was no help Moro concluded, the man equally as absorbed in the conversation and his daughter’s progress with her study and magic.

Moro had sharp eyes however, and had more than sussed out Laisa’s tactics. The girl had taken one bite of the porridge and grimaced at the taste. The girl making lingering glances every now and then at the sweet pastries on the other side of the table. Playing with her porridge more than eating it.

“Mamae can I have a pastry please?”

Moro watched as the young girl struggled with small arms to reach the plate of her desire, grunting with frustration. Moro pulled the plate further away from her, ignoring the girl’s pout at being refused.

“I think if someone gobbled you up you would taste just like these pastries love. You eat them far too much.”

“Ahnsul mae?!”

“No. Eat what’s in front of you.”

Laisa slouched in her chair, kicking her feet back and forth as she stubbornly ignored the porridge. Her eyes slowly turning to land on her father, eyes narrowing and honing in on him. Solas noticed, questioning why he suddenly felt so nervous as his daughter watched him like a predator.

“Bae? Can I have a pastry?”

All at once there was a staring match between Moro and Solas. Her stare full of warning and his own eyes wide as he darted from his love to his daughter, feeling like a cornered hare. In one swift second he placed one of the honey glazed treats next to Laisa, the girl wasting no time tucking into it with victorious vigour.

“It’s just one pastry…” Solas nervously insisted, attempting damage control. Moro pulled a face of casual indifference with a purse of her lips.

Solas prayed that her lack of anger was a sign of her illness, and not him royally fucking up.

“You’ll only have yourself to blame.” Moro muttered as she pulled a book from the shelf, her apathy only sparking Solas’ anxiety.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see.”

~~~~~~~~~

A few more days had passed, and a servant notified Solas that Moro’s condition had worsened. Nothing serious she informed him, but undisturbed rest was advised. Which was why he now sat in the garden with Laisa alone, having breakfast once again.

He watched fondly as Laisa played around with the porridge on her plate, displeased.

“Don’t you like it da’vhenan?”

A stubborn shrug of her shoulders was Laisa’s only response, bored and pouting at the boring assortment of foods on the table. Grumbling as she grabbed a dry piece of toast to stab into the cooling slop that was slowly becoming of her breakfast.

Solas knew better. He knew if Moro was here she would put a stop to this behaviour, alas the man did not have it in him. He wondered perhaps if missing out on the first six years of Laisa’ life left a large dent in his heart with guilt. Every time he was aware of her inappropriate behaviour and scolding was necessary he could never bring himself to do it.

“Da’len, Laisa…please stop that.”

Laisa looked up at her father to the bread in her hand, then ceased her abuse towards the food. Solas sighed inwardly that she listened without a fuss. Although it was most likely due to her gasp of delight as another servant arrived with a tray of more sweet pastries.

They were once again however out of reach for her, even when she stood on her knees up on her chair. Laisa looked up at her father with wide pleading eyes, so large it made his heart melt.

“Babae! Babae can I have one? Pleeeeeaaaaaassssseeeeeee?”

In that moment it did occur to Solas that he should probably refuse her, exercise some discipline. After all, the child did eat them every day when he thought about it. That couldn’t be healthy he concluded.

Laisa began to whimper, pleading eyes and pouting up at her father as she tried to reach for the plate of sugary delight. Solas debated with himself, a lump forming in his throat as he prepared himself.

“…No…”

The child paused, her eyes widening in shock as she stared flabbergasted at her father. Like the idea of him refusing her was so ridiculous. Solas was tempting to take it all back, give the child the pastry and be done with it.

“No?” Laisa questioned, surprise and slight anger laced in that one word as her brows furrowed at her father. Solas cursed mentally, Moro never had this problem. If she was here Laisa would obey without question. Moro was right, he’d been spoiling their daughter and he was about to deal with the consequences of doing so. Maybe she would strop a bit, be fussy, he was sure it wouldn’t be that bad.

Would it?

“That’s right…no. You have had quite enough I should think…”

“But I want it.”

Solas could not believe what he was hearing.

“Well…that’s too bad.”

‘Oh no what is she doing?’ Solas questioned mentally as the girl jumped out of her seat in a huff and approached him, but when he saw her eyes trained on the plate he knew he was not her destination. He stood quickly, holding the plate up before she could round on it. Handing the plate to a servant and urging them to send it back to the kitchens.

Laisa was stomping her little feet on the ground, her hands pulling and clinging at her father’s robes as she cried out in frustration.

“Nooooooooooo!”

“Stop it Laisa.”

“I want it I want it I want iiiiiiiiiiiiit!” She cried her voice taking on a more screechy tone with every sentence. Solas was glad there no others in the garden. When the girl started crying he was almost tempted to go back and retrieve what she wanted, if only to make her stop crying.

“Come now da’len, they’re only pastries! Please stop crying…”

She didn’t seem to hear him, or she didn’t want to. Her screams only became louder. Solas was a mess, he had no idea what to do. Moro was sick and he didn’t want to disturb her. He bent down to Laisa’s level to try get her attention, but the girl only fell to the floor, crying and screaming louder for pastries.

When he tried to pick her up she pushed him away, lost in her own tantrum.

“MAMAEEEEEE!”

“No! Don’t call for mamae! It’s fine! Everything is fine!” Solas started to panic, wondering if he would start crying anytime soon. Completely at a loss at how to stop her crying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the castle, a lone elf ran for the Inquisitor’s room, knocking gently before opening the door. A small bed of hair the only sign that there was anyone laying in the large bed.

“Um…Mistress Lavellan?”

“Mmmm?”

Moro was running a fever, her nose and cheeks red as she glared daggers at the servant woman. The faint but distinct sound of Laisa’s screaming spilling into the room.

“I understand your current predicament but would you be able to-”

“What did he do?”

“He…”

Moro sighed long and hard.

“The man made an attempt at parenting, didn’t he?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Guards cast their eyes aside as their leader’s lover came charging across the palace in nothing but her nightshift with irritation and fury on her face. The maid servant who sent for her struggling to keep up with the woman’s fast stride.

Moro kissed her teeth at the scene before her, Solas on his knees trying to calm Laisa down as the child flailed and wailed at the top of her lungs on the patio floor.

“Laisa!”

Laisa’s crying stopped immediately, the child rising sharply to her feet. The child now standing sheepish under her mother’s gaze. Moro placed her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised and frown on her face and she waited for an explanation for her daughter’s behaviour.

“What is this then?”

“Sorry mama…”

“Come with me. Now.” Moro ordered, Laisa quickly following after her and leaving Solas to wonder what the fuck just happened and how the hell Moro made everything normal within seconds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late into the evening, and Solas was tucked away in his private study. Moro sat across from him, groaning from the lingering sickness after having spent the last minutes lecturing Solas on his.

“Thank you Vhenan.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you spoil them Solas. I don’t think you realise how much effort it takes to curb that sort of behaviour.”

Both were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, Laisa shyly poking her head through. When her mother ushered her in the child ran to her father’s lap, pulling him into a hug. Mumbling her apologies over his shoulder.

“It’s alright da’vhenan.” Solas chuckled as he gave his daughter a kiss upon her temple, smiling from ear to ear and looking from a plate on his desk to his daughter. Handing her a pastry and shooing her off to bed.

Moro stared exasperated from Laisa skipping out of the room to Solas’ clueless face.

“Have you learnt NOTHING?!”

“What did I do?”

Moro pinched the bridge of her nose, standing and bidding Solas goodnight to avoid stressing herself out further.


	3. IIyanaXSolas (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's been so much sin lately I felt like writing some smut
> 
> And Smuttine has been awesome lately so I thought I would let IIyana take the stage :P
> 
> The events of Tresspasser don't actually happen with IIyana so this is more of a AU if it did happen.
> 
> IIyana is not my lavellan but belong to Smuttine! You can find her here and on tumblr:
> 
> Tumblr: http://smuttine.tumblr.com/  
> IIyana: http://smuttine.tumblr.com/IlyanaLavellan  
> AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/users/Smuttine/pseuds/Smuttine

Serene and silent. A sanctuary. Vivid and vibrant trees, the wind guiding them into a quiet melody that calm her mind. Beautiful a scene as could be when accompanied by the sweet scented flowers that sprouted from the earth. 

Such refuge was necessary for IIyana to cultivate when her mind retired to the fade every night. The demands of the world and her yearning for a lover long gone weighing heavy on her heart. 

Var lath vir suledin she had sworn to him. But the more years that passed, the more she felt it to be a one-sided vow. A promise abandoned and forgotten.  
Such doubts always chased away at the sight of a great white wolf. Always a trick of the eye she believes until she gazes with hopeful eyes and the wolf remains. Cautious and reluctant, but it remained all the same.

He remained. Hope returning, feeling like warm embers that brought comfort after returning from a storm.

“Solas.”

A declaration, never a question. Certainty in the truth of the wolf’ real identity absolute. 

Where once he would flee from the mere mention of his name, this night he stayed. And it made IIyana bold.

“I find the fade to bring less joy than it once did.”  
“The fade is vast and eternal Vhenan. Surely ebullience may still be found.”

A hand obscured to him clenched tightly into a fist. How long it had been since she heard his voice, heard him call her his heart. Patience her mind chided at her. Be patient, lest you scare him off and be left solitary on this night when you want nothing of the sort.

“Ane arasha fenor,” IIyana looked on towards the dawn. “The fade has never…quite felt the same anymore, not for a long time.”

The form of the wolf was abandoned when she dared again to chance a glance. There was no beast, there was no blinding armour that glimmered like the sun. There was an apostate, an unassuming man in cheap wool. Just Solas, her Solas.

IIyana, with eyes hiding a hint of mischief, patted the empty space beside her. A smile, small and hesitant but inviting, curving the edges of her lips.

“I doubt you can see the view from all the way over there. It is quite lovely. Join me?”

She turned her gaze from him once again, if only to encourage and not drive him off.

“Come.”

Her body whips around at the call, his own turned from her as he delves through the dense woodland outskirts of her dreams. When a walk that feels like eternity ends he has led her to a cave. A deceiving place when inside trees, water and wildlife thrive inside its dwellings. The moonlight bleeds in from jagged cracks from above, illuminating the pond to gleam where Solas now stood.

Whatever brought him courage, whatever made him remain was unimportant to IIyana now. All that mattered was Solas was here, beckoning her to join him where he sat by the pond. Eyes loving but hesitant.

“It has been so long Solas.”  
“I know.”

His hand upon her cheek was a comfort she had not realised she missed so much. Face pressed against him palm, a heavy contented sigh flowing from her.

He was truly an elvhen of old she thought, in that moment. If not for his burden his face would truly have showed no aging from the day she had met him. And so handsome he still was, and so close to her now. Real and tangible. His gaze filling her with need. 

“Nuvenan Solas, hima sa i’na.” IIyana whispered the words like a prayer against his palm like a prayer. An inkling of insecurity waiting for his rejection.   
But her answer was only silence, the feel of hands encasing her hips and pulling her closer. So close till she astride his lap and his lips were but inches from her own.  
Waiting. Always waiting, always baiting, never taking. 

IIyana’s arms were thrown around his neck, stealing his lips for her own and drinking in his muffled surprise. Swallowed the groans and breathed him in. Her smile growing in between flushed kisses as he returned them, hands roaming and wandering anywhere they could reach of her.

“Vera em ma’lath. Vera em I hima sa i’em.” 

Cheeks flushed, lips bruised from the onslaught of their joining and eyes dilated, heavy as they stare intently at each other. A fire building inside of them with only one means of release. 

“Yes.” IIyana mouthed as her skin shivered, being exposed to the air. Elation triggered by his fingers sprawls across her shoulders, pulling away offending fabrics. An obstacle in the way of what he wanted. What they both wanted.

An arm around the waist and the other slipping in and clinging to short blue hair, his mouth trailing and tasting from her shoulder up towards her neck. Stretched and laid bare for him life a gift, and who was he to refuse such a generous offering?

Thighs clenched tightly around his waist. His name drawn out in breathy sighs, toes curled when teeth nipped at sensitive flesh.

Solas became bolder. Mouth inching lower, legs pushing IIyana higher till her chest stood before him, flushed and exposed. Open mouth kisses, lathered between her twin peaks as she cooed, another gasp escaping her when he took her into his mouth and sucked. Sparks shooting through her body, a hand clinging to the back of his skull, urging for more.

He released her breast with a wet pop, only to begin assaulting the other. Making IIyana moan and cry out to him, hips rocking slightly as heat began to pool where she wanted him most. 

“More, please…”   
“IIyana…”

The deep and husky drawl he uttered her name with provoked her pleasure to heighten, pulling him back for another greedy kiss and dragging him back down with her. Settling him between her legs as she laid on the grass below him, her chest rising and falling quicker as her breaths came out short and often. 

The sight of her, his heart, his love. Laid beneath him, clothes thrown aside, open and beckoning him. His heart swelled, his loins throbbing and the troubles of the world insignificant.

There was only IIyana, and himself. He would not deny her any longer, no longer deny himself.

IIyana bit at her lip at the sight of him, hard and dripping when he removed the last of his clothes. Her thighs spreading wider to accommodate him as he positioned himself against her, aching and wet for him. A strangled gasp followed by muscles tensing as his cock stretched her open in one slow steady push.

Both moaned long and low as he filled her inch by inch until he was sheathed fully inside her, his hands rubbing up and down the sides of her waist as she adjusted to him. 

“Ma Vhenan, IIyana…”  
“Oh gods Solas, this is perfect. Please…”

He needed no more encouragement as he rocked his hips into a rhythm, IIyana’s gasps and moans spurring him on, driving him deeper and faster. Uncaring of lewd sounds as his hips snapped against her, uncaring that once this was over the reality of their situation would have them part once again.

She was here, with him. Moaning and calling out to him, his name a litany on her parted lips. This is all that mattered in this moment.

Pressure began to build inside them both, Solas’ chest flush against her own, his teeth to her neck as he grinded against her, his movements more erratic and desperate as he inched closer to his peak. Archaic elvhen flooding from his lips, too old and fast for IIyana to understand. Not that it mattered.

She clung tightly to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he rutted harder against her, positioning herself to take him deeper. Body shuddering as her pleasure bathed over her, her walls tightening around him. Legs shaking as her nails dug deep into his back, moaning his name one last time before Solas came to his own end, groaning against her ear as he spent himself inside her, her name a shaky whisper on his lips.

When he tried to move IIyana would not let him, afraid perhaps that the moment she let go he would be taken from her. She pulled him closer, lazy sweet-peppered kisses shared between them as they came down from their high. Her fingers trailing over cheek bones and the dip in his chin, memorising every detail for recollection.

Because she knew he would go, that the moment she let him there was no telling when she would see him again. The thought of it making her heart weep.

“I’m afraid to ask what this means Solas, but I find myself asking all the same.”

“I…I do not know what this means,” They sat side by side, IIyana’s leg draped over his own as they enjoyed the privacy and solace within the fade. Hands loosely trailing over one another. “I love you, I always have. That hasn’t and will not change.”

IIyana’s smile was defeated, hopeful but melancholic.

“Will you at least stay right now? For as long as you are able? Please.”

Solas trailed a hand through her hair, his kiss deep. She felt perhaps, that she was not the only one who wished to linger.

When he pulled away he smiled.

And so did she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhen:
> 
> Ane arasha fenor: You are my happiness beloved  
> Nuvenan Solas, hima sa i’na: I want Solas, to become one with you  
> Vera em ma’lath. Vera em I hima sa i’em: Take me my love, take me and become one with me


	4. Double Date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaken-Veil always available to provide lol
> 
> Prompt: Double-date for Moro/Solas and Ramia/Abelas. Enjoy.
> 
> And I did enjoy it.
> 
> Set in a ModernAU setting.

“Oh hell no.”

“What’s wrong?”

Ramia turned with such ferocity that her hair could have sucker punched Abelas in the face if she was tall enough. Abelas himself didn’t understand Ramia’s sudden panic, wanting to know what flustered her but also not wanting to stand right in the middle of the restaurant. The closest table to them occupied by a woman whose scowl could probably melt your face off if you looked directly at it.

“Y’know what Abelas? I don’t think I’m feeling Nevarran tonight…”

Abelas stared at her, exasperated.

“But…you love Nevarran food. You specifically told me you ‘could kill for some of that good shit’”  
“Listen.”  
“You said that.”  
“I know.”  
“Today.”  
“I get it!”  
“Five minutes ago.”

“Abelas we need to leave!” Ramia whispered as loud as humanely possible. 

“Abelas?” 

Abelas turned when he heard someone call his name. A small smile lifting on his face when he saw his friend sitting across at a four-seater. Not wanting to be rude he walked up to him, pulling Ramia by her elbow to follow. Whispering at her to stop making a fuss.

“Solas, this is unexpected.” Abelas remarked. He shook his friend’s hand, taking a seat opposite who he could only suspect was Solas’ date. He made to say hello to the woman, but she seemed but more interested in his own date. Ramia reluctantly sat down beside him, looking anywhere else but at the woman whose eyes were glued to her.

“I knew you said you had plans tonight but I did not suspect we would end up at the same restaurant. This is truly unexpected.” Solas remarked in high spirits, pleased to see him.

“Indeed, I feel introductions are necessary,” Abelas moved a hand at Ramia’s lower back, aware of her increasing unease. “I have spoken of Ramia before, this is her.”

“It is good to finally meet you. Abelas speaks quite highly of you!” Ramia gave a forced polite smile, but still avoided the older woman’s gaze. “Abelas and Ramia, this is Moro. We have been seeing each other for some time,” Solas turned to address his date. “You met Abelas briefly when you picked me up at the University. Perhaps you have met Ramia before as well?” Solas said the last question more in jest than with any actual seriousness. A calculated smile graced Moro’s features, picking up her wine glass and lifting it to her lips.

“Met would probably be an understatement.” Moro proclaimed, amused by the entire situation but there was also a lilt of irritation to her tone as she regarded Ramia.

“What does she mean?” Abelas asked as he turned his gaze to Ramia, the poor girl hiding her face behind a menu. Abelas looked to Solas, but he seemed just as confused.

“I’m her mother.”

Abelas and Solas were definitely not expecting that and their only clarification from Ramia was her continued descent into the conveniently large menu. The Nevarrans always had so many dishes, now Ramia had another reason to love them for it.

Ramia peaked over from the menu, her mother placing her wine glass back down on the table as she made small talk with Abelas. Ramia wondered just how upset her mother was with her, for not telling her about her boyfriend.

“So Abelas what do you do? Aside from Solas, I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you.”

Yep, Ramia was dead. That’s it. If her mother wasn’t going to address it now and save it for later she knew she was pissed off with her. The look of disappointed surprise on Abelas’ face didn’t help either. They had been official for almost half a year now and the fact that Ramia had not mentioned a word about him to her family? That was going to upset him, that was certain.

“I…” Abelas cleared his throat. Regardless of how upset he was with Ramia right now; this was still her mother. The matriarch who ruled with an iron fist. At least that was how Ramia described her to him. He wanted to make a good impression. 

“I am a student, Solas’ specifically.”

“PHD?”  
“PHD.”

“Under 35?”  
“I’ll be 27 in the fall.”

“Drugs?”  
“The herbal kind, on occasion.”

“Are you clean?”  
“Mother!”  
“Be quite Ramia. Are you clean?”  
“We have not engaged in that way yet…but…yes, since you asked.”

Solas and Ramia watched the exchange in fascination, Ramia more so with embarrassment. Moro’s elbow rested against the table as her chin rested on her knuckles. Her hawk-like gaze searching for any weakness in Abelas, anything that might give her reason not to like him. She then turned to Solas with an unanswered question, he had been with Moro long enough to understand her body language well, a confidant proud smile on his face.

“He is one of my best students, and a good man. They have both chosen well,” Solas squeezed Moro’s hand with his to emphasise his sincerity and to encourage her blessings for the young couple. “Vhenan…”

“Don’t Vhenan me.” Moro scoffed, but she couldn’t hide the grin from her face when Solas displayed a cheeky smile of his own. She turned back to address them both, waving her hand at them and raising her glass to take another sip of her wine.

“Go on then.”

“Thank you Ms. Lavellan.”

“Yeah yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something short so hopefully you guys like it lol
> 
> Feel free to send me prompts at my tumblr: mindtrove.tumblr.com
> 
> I could always use the practice :P


	5. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt from tumblr!
> 
> Wren-bluebell: another prompt idea: Solas gives Abelas ... THE TALK ... lmao.. as in.. "look after my daughter" Abelas: "But shes no-" Solas: IF anything happens to her.. I swear... "

“You wanted to see me?”

“Abelas! Good, good…please, sit down.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No no! It just seems that…well…”

“…?”

“There have been rumours.”

“I did not take you one for gossip Solas.”

“I don’t. But these in particular have been, consistent and…”

“What has been said of me?”

“That apparently you and Ramia have become…close.”

“…ah.”

“Is this true?”

“…I don’t see how-”

“You are not in trouble Abelas! Please, I would hate for you to think this meeting was for anything of that sort.”

“Then why are you-”

“Of course it might head in that direction…”

“Um…”

“But that’s entirely dependent on you.”

“Solas.”

“Where was I? Oh yes. Ramia. Now, I do need to have this discussion with you Abelas. Ramia is after all, Moro’s daughter. And Moro is-”

“You are close yes. I know.”

“Please do not interrupt me Abelas. Anyway, Moro is very, very dear to me and by extension Ramia is as well. I mean…for all intents and purposes she’s MY daughter.”

“Mmm…”

“Ramia is a sensitive girl Abelas. Quick to make attachments to people.”

“I know.”

“I am unsure how long this…entanglement, has gone on for-”

“Solas…”

“But you have to understand, as her father-”

“You’re not her…”

“I have to be concerned! And be cautious of any man or woman who takes an interest in her…”

“…”

“You included.”

“Solas.”

“Yes?”

“I will not hurt her.”

“Of course not! I would never make such an assumption of you Abelas. You are not some charlatan.”

“Thank y-”

“But it is good precaution just to be sure.”

“…”

“You understand?”

“I will not put you in any position where antagonism was necessary on your part Solas...”

“Of course, of course. I would never wish harm upon you either Abelas.”

“Thank y-”

“Unless you gave me reason to…”

“…”

“Like if you broke Ramia’s heart…leaving her scarred with a bad experience that colours her view on love. A beautiful and wonderful part of life that should never be soiled by the desecration of trust and devotion by whatever means that a perpetrator would use. For their selfish, heartless gains.”

“……………………………………..”

“But you would never do that, such actions and the inevitable consequences of said actions, would make me have to do…terrible, horrible things…”

“………………………………………………”

“To whomever would commit such a crime…”

“…………………………………………………….!”  
“You would never give me cause to do such things would you Abelas?”

“No! I would not, Solas. I care about Ramia. Deeply.”

“…”

“….”

“Wonderful! Only time will tell! I am glad we could have this discussion. Have a good afternoon Abelas.”

“You too…”


	6. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you like my charatcers and wanna prompts me for anythign you can send them here: mindtrove.tumblr.com

“Uh…sir.”

Solas looked up from the letters and notes on his desk, one of his agents standing by the door. He recognised the young elven boy. His nervous disposition a regular target for teasing by many of his men, despite them meaning well. 

Solas had hoped giving the boy the simple task of messenger within his fortress would ease him into his new role and cause little trouble for him.

“Come in Eliel,” Solas said, mustering up a smile for the boy, a small and tired one. His attempts to bury all unpleasantries that plagued his thoughts through his work taking its toll on him. “Is everything alright?”

“There’s…someone here to see you…”  
“See me?”  
“Yes sir…”  
“At the entrance?”  
“Yes sir…”

Solas was both suspicious and intrigue all in one. That someone could have found his hidden base and not even bother to use infiltration, but just walk right up to the front door? Suspicious and curious indeed. Eliel cleared his throat, taking Solas out of his thoughts.

“Did they say anything Eliel? Or are they simply just…standing there?”

“They asked for you by name. Your actual name, not Fen’harel. Or Dread Wolf,” The boy shuffled on the spot. Whoever had trespassed had left a negative impression on the boy to have him so unsettled. “They had an accompaniment and everything with-”

“Solas,” Both turned to see Abelas charged into the room. Scowling, signalling for Eliel to leave the room. His eyes then turned on Solas in irritation. “Why is the Inquisitor here?! Why does she know about this base?”

Once that titbit of information sank in, Solas eyes widen drastically. Moro was here? And from the sounds of it she wasn’t happy. Although he couldn’t be surprised, their last encounter was a…whirlwind of a reunion. 

Painful, prickly…passionate…Very passionate-

“Solas.” Abelas repeated, still standing by the door, still awaiting an answer.

“Bring her here.”

“Already done.” Abelas proclaimed, shoving the door open fully. Moro standing just behind him, her face mirroring Abelas’ own.

“Ah.”

“Thank you Abelas,” Moro said almost too sweetly, patting the sentinel away. “Off with you then.”

Solas for once was unsure how to proceed. Moro’s arrival unexpected.

“Solas.”  
“Inquisitor.”

“So formal!” Moro chuckled, low in her throat as she strode further into the room. As she pondered and looked over his personal room, Solas took the chance to study the woman. She was still clad in that intricately patterned scarf that kept all her hair contained. The only other thing of note was the heavy cloak that covered her body, not exactly something the woman would usually wear.

“Why are you here Moro?”

“A very good question, what could you have possibly done that would require me to come all the way to the back end of nowhere, and meet with you personally?”

“Do not play games with me Moro, you are much more direct than this,” Solas barked. His patience thinning with Moro’s roundabout choice of words. “We both know that.”

Moro tutted to herself, her face twisting in discomfort before making a move to seat herself on one of the plush chairs Solas kept by a fire in his room. Her fingers rubbing at her temple to ward off a headache. Solas watched, concerned as he moved to join her. The muscles in what was now half an arm tensing.

The sight brought back memories of their time together at Skyhold, the numerous nights he would see this same expression. Her face forced into neutrality to feign ease against what he knew was uncomfortable pain. His own face falling into a frown.

“You are in pain,” Solas declared. Not giving Moro the chance to deny it. “Has the mark left residuals of itself despite-”

“You cutting my arm off? Yes, probably…I don’t know. It’s magic Solas, I wouldn’t know.”

Moro shrugged off her cloak, looking at Solas with confusion at his mildly horror stricken face as he stared at her. Her eyes followed where his own were firmly locked, landing on the heavily large swelling that was her stomach.

“Oh, right. Yes,” Moro remarked, completely unfazed by the whole thing, her voice dead-pan as she lay a hand on her belly. “I’m pregnant, your child…obviously.” 

Solas watched in complete shock as Moro relayed the information as if she was recounting a tedious afternoon. His jaw agape as he looked from her waving hand gestures to her stomach. His heartbeat hammering loud in his head as he tried to register the knowledge that he had gotten Moro pregnant.

Not knowing whether that or her complete indifference to the situation required immediate attention.

“You are…with child…my…child?”  
“Would I be here if it wasn’t yours?”

“You are much too calm about this…”  
“I’m not really one to get surprised by the same thing twice.”

“Is this why you are here?!”

“Solas.”

Solas stood to his full height, pacing back and forth in the room trying to understand the situation. This sudden addition in the mess of what was their relationship feeling like a slap in the face. Hurt and anger growing, knowing that Moro could have told him so much sooner, that she only found it fit to tell him now when she was so far along.

“Why?! Why would you tell me this now?!”  
“I never planned to tell you!”

“What do you mean you never planned on telling me?!” Solas yelled, his temper igniting her own and putting them both on edge. “You could have told me when last we met Moro.”  
Moro stared at him like he was mad, barking a bitter laugh before rising to her feet.

“Oh I’m sorry! I’m afraid, having two countries after me, a Qunari invasion and finding out the man I’d loved and bedded was the fucking Dread Wolf, kind of took priority. In case you hadn’t noticed Solas, having a child with a man who suddenly leaves my life isn’t a first for me. So you’ll forgive me if it slipped my fucking mind!”

Solas held his tongue, moving over to his desk and placing his weight against it with his palms. Trying to keep a level-head of the situation.

“You should have told me.”

“There are a lot of things in my life I should have done or said…and things that I shouldn’t,” Moro pressed her lips together in a thin line. Hands curled into fists, disappointed in Solas’ panic. Wanting more than ever for the calm and collected apostate who dealt with their problems like it was child’s play. “I did not come here simply to tell you about the child Solas. The mark is not completely gone…I’m…”

Her voice faltered, Solas attention being drawn to the sucked in breath she took. Her shortened arm held out as she cradled her stomach protectively. Fear and worry had no doubt been plaguing her for some time the closer to term she got. Believing whatever of the mark was left would harm her child or make delivery difficult.

Solas approached Moro cautiously, hesitantly placing a hand against her own.

“Moro…”

“My reasons for keeping the child are my own,” Moro said. “I do not expect your involvement, nor do I expect it after I leave here today.” Solas tried not to show how much her words stung. “But you know this magic better than I Solas, you were meant to remove the mark completely. Fix this.”

“We would not be in this situation if you had just…just…”

“Don’t…you…dare…” Moro warned, her tone venemous.

Solas ran a hand over his face. Of course he didn’t want to say such words, but Moro had taken a difficult situation and made it worse. 

“What? Tell you how much of a mistake you have made? What about Ramia Moro? Bearing a child in your predicament could kill you! Even now it is reacting to what magic is left inside you! What if you die?! What if this kills you! What about then?! You are all she has!”

Moro did not speak as she strived to hold her temper, difficult to do when Solas continued to speak.

“This is Mythal’s temple all over again! You do as you please and never think about the consequences or how it affects others!”

“I am not talking about this again with you Solas!” Moro screamed, before she made a chocked gasp. Her hand gripping tightly onto the chair beside her. 

“What is it?”

Moro looked down at the trickle of water down the side of her leg, cursing and swearing profanities.

“Really?! Now?! Mythal’s Mercy…”  
“What is it?”  
“It’s the baby for fuck’s sake…”

“Oh…”  
“Yeah.”  
“Oh…oh no…no no no.”

“Solas!”

Solas immediately stood at attention, watching Moro wobble over to his bed and rip the covers off the bed. Solas rushed to her side, his hand shaking slightly. Not knowing what to do.

“Solas, calm down and go get a healer. Now.”

Solas rushed out of the room, leaving Moro alone as pains slowly grew in her lower back. Signs that the child was definitely on its way.

“Gods give me strength…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moro giving birth was a lot less…dramatic, than Solas thought she would be through the process. There were no blood-curdling screams or healers rushing back and forth from the room. No signs of a struggle. So of course he couldn’t help going back inside the room to check on her.

The healers were huddled around her, everyone with their hands full as they helped Moro bring new life into the world. Moro’s long, drawled out groans and moans filling the room. Solas saw the pain and distress on her sweat covered face. Running immediately to her side by instinct, his healers not daring to ask him to leave.

“Vhenan…”  
“She cannot speak much sir. It hurts too much; she needs to concentrate.”

Solas wanted to help, seeing her in such a state made him angry at himself for how he spoke to her. Never having seen Moro in such dire straits. Twice now the source of strain and pain on her body being his fault, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Moro gave a loud yelp, jerking everyone in the room. The eldest healer there, an old woman with a permanent grump to her steps was pushing Solas out. The door closed shut behind him, Abelas standing before him with arms folded.

“The beauty of motherhood.”  
“You are not helping Abelas.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Solas was waiting alone for hours, until the elderly woman who had previously kicked him out was now inviting back into his room. The others servants nodding their goodbyes, leaving him alone the room with Moro. And their child.

She still laid across his bed, topless from the waist up and her skin covered in a sheen of sweat as she reclined on her good arm. She did not seem to notice him enter, and Solas was not surprised. His own attention drawn to the small, tiny little thing laying across next to her. It’s small hands grasping onto its mother as it suckled at her breast.

Solas watched for a time, seeing that genuine warmth and love pour out of Moro that he only saw when she looked at Ramia. Her children always meant the world to her, and seeing her like this now made everything else seem so far away. Unimportant.

“Vhenan.”

“Ma’lath,” Moro breathed, a sadness glossed over her eyes as she looked from the baby to Solas. The stress from delivering having dulled her anger and making her sentimental. “We will leave as soon as possible…it…it won’t be any good for you to get attached...”

Solas was at her side, dipping down on the mattress and tracing a thumb delicately over his child’s cheek. Their eyes could barely open yet, but he could see the small sparkle of blue that would form there. The breath leaving his lungs and his heart feeling heavy at the tiny little thing that latched on to its mother. A small mumbled ‘Oh’ falling from his lips when the baby grasped his thumb and squeezed.

“Too late…”


	7. Hurry Up (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EmmG Prompt: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Give me Solas and Moro having and awkward tumble in the hay (but you know, not really in the hay) with Solas being freaking exasperated because she's insisting on making this a quickie and goddamn the man just wants some sweet long lovemaking. Teehee.
> 
>  
> 
> (I really need to work on my smut writing skills)

“Is that all? Just your smalls?”

“I was going to just move them to the side, but I was feeling generous. I know it gets you going when you can see what you’re doing.”

“That…that is beside the point! And not the cause for my remark.”

The abandoned libraries beneath Skyhold was their little secret. No one could find them there. No interruptions, nothing to deter them from enjoying the beginnings of their blossoming romance. Hence why it made the perfect hideaway when they wanted to ‘have fun’ so to speak, in the peace and safety that it offered.

Honestly it should have proven the perfect opportunity for Solas and Moro to truly explore each other in ways they never had before. Which in Solas’ mind meant:

Taking their fucking time. 

Sure, everything they had done so far proved Moro to be more on the…aggressive side. Not that he could complain really, not with how good that aggressive enthusiasm felt around his-

“Dick.”

“What have I done now?” Solas growled, his face already set into disappointment as she turned her back to him. Face pressed against the large bookshelf, a hand rubbing across her cunt. Already wet and eager for him.

Oh why did she have to spread it like that? Any softness that had lingered on his cock all but gone now. Hard as stone by the time she started sinking two of her own digits into herself.

“It’s more what you’re not doing Solas…come on…” Moro whined.

Solas did enjoy this one aspect of his newly found paramour, others would be dead before they could hear her all whiny and needy. But then again, none of them would ever see her bent over with her naked arse out either. But that didn’t stop Solas from giving her cheeks appreciative squeezes as he rubbed his tip up and down her slit.

“Today Solas!”  
“What is it with you and quick trysts?!”  
“What is it with you and-” Moro’s words were cut off when he twisted her hair around his arm and tugged. Hard. 

Even Solas had not expected her reaction. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard such a wanton groan in all his life. 

He’d have to remember hair pulling. Hair pulling was a big one on the list.

“Oh, you’re a son of a bitch. Do that again.” She moaned, her ass rubbing against his length before taking it in hand and sinking down on it. Her chuckle low and brazen when Solas hissed in her ear, gasping again when he pulled at her locks with another harsh jerk.

“Always have to have your way don’t you?” Solas groaned against her ear as he went straight into fucking her at harsh pace. “A spoiled brat.”

“Oh fuck yeah you better spoil me.” Her laughter came out in a deep moan, shameless. “Maybe if you make this really quick, we can do something you like?” She inquired between panting breaths, hands bracing against the book shelf again when Solas pushed her forward. Hands taking a bruising grip on her hips and pumping harder, deeper inside her.

“Be careful what you offer Vhenan,” Solas warned, hand spreading further. A frustrated groan leaving him as he saw himself slide in and out of her, coated in her arousal. Moro was certainly right that he liked to see what he was doing. His finger travelled north to her tight ring of muscle. “I may have different tastes to you.”

Moro’s head turned to look where his fingers travelled, biting at her lip as another fit of giggles escaped past her teeth. Her hips pushing back to take him all in.

“Oh you’re filthy…good,” She huskily replied. “We’ll need a lot of privacy if you want to do that.”

“Oh?”

“That stuff makes me a screamer.”

Oh, Solas would like that. He would love that, and Moro could see it in his eyes. Her own glinting with an idea to get this session over and done with.

“If you’re good and get this over with,” Moro paused for effect, but also to take a breath. “We can do whatever you want, however you want…next time.”

“Whatever I want hmm?”

“Oh…fuck…yes love, whatever you want.”

“For as long as I want?”

“Yes! By the gods Solas please! Whatever you want! For as long as you want, just fuck me…please.”

“I’ll hold you to that Vhenan.” Solas whispered before driving into her in full force, fingers at her swollen numb to bring her to her peak. 

“I most definitely will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my characters and want to prompt me on them you can do so here:
> 
> mindtrove.tumblr.com


	8. Tent Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EmmG requested Tent Sex
> 
> So here ya go

It was sweltering inside the tents; it always was in the Western Approach. She had always felt right in the heat but still. She had not hoped to find any reason to come back to the barren wasteland when the matter of the Wardens was done.

Solas even more so, he’d become to accustomed to the chilly mountains of Skyhold. Sequestered there, month after month as his assistance was needed there more out in the field. The Inquisitor had insisted on that, even if the others teased that she was simply spoiling her apostate sweetheart. Keeping him safe and tucked away from the dangers instead of out on the field.

But one like Solas; having spent so much of his time travelling, would not sit idle for long. He had insisted on coming with her to the Approach. It had been a gruelling first few days and the nights were no better as the heat creeped into the night.

Not that either of them minded, sleep was the last thing on their minds.

Moro was pulling off the last of her clothing with a grunt, the sweat soaked fabric a struggle to remove. Solas was already stark naked when she had entered the tent a few moments ago, relaxed as if he had no worry than anyone other than his love would enter their tent. Which pleased Moro just fine as she straddled his waist, cunt running along his length to spur it to life as it rested. Soft against his belly, although she had plans to change that.

“Oh,” Moro’s eyes sparked, remembering the wrap keeping her hair at bay. Hands stretching up to carefully undo the intricate fabric. A pleased hum leaving Solas’s lips as he bucked his hips up, rocking against her swelling nub and enjoying the hitches of breath as she tried to concentrate. Her own hips working against her as she ground back against him, a challenge in her gaze. The entire sight pulling crude thoughts from her head. “So impatient tonight aren’t we?”

“Never impatient.” Solas groaned from both the heat of the tent and the heat building inside him. Whatever else he wished to say dying on his lips as his hands travelled across her ribs, a breast in each hand and giving them a generous squeeze before being smacked away. Solas didn’t appreciate that, and the moment Moro had her hair freed he was pulling her against him. Mouth and teeth latching onto a breast as he teased the other with clever fingers.

“Oh…” Moro cooed at the sharp treatment, hair sprawled around them and hips grinding harder on his cock. “You’re terrible.” She chuckled as she pushed her hair aside, watched him pepper and slather her chest in tongue-heavy kisses. Sucking at the flesh, the pink embellishments would undoubtedly leave their bruised marks for weeks to come.

“I am feeling particular tonight.”

“Particularly troublesome?” Moro groused, her eyes crinkling in humour to counteract the moodiness of her tone. Gasping again when her attempt to rise and separate herself from him was thwarted by Solas pulling her back once again. His previous ministrations now targeted towards her neck and along the path of her ear. 

“Solas!”   
“Hush Vhenan.”  
“I will not, let me tie up my hair. It’s too hot to leave it out like this!”

Her demands were ignored as Solas rolled them over, switching their positions. A small chuckle escaping him when Moro yelped in surprise. His hand lowering to squeeze her rump, a large grin spread on his face as he rested his forehead against her own. The smile widening at the half-hearted glare thrown his way.

“I like it better like this,”” He whispered, brushing strands that clung to her perspiring brow. A knowing glint in his eye to know the flush on her cheeks was from more than just the heat. “Beautiful.” He added, knowing it would harden her blush. Which is did, remarkably so as she kissed her teeth. An insult ready on her tongue.

His mouth crashed against her own before she could come out with it. His tongue pressing, tasting her moans as his continued to rock his length against her. Now aching and wet, the roughness of his libido tonight clearly doing wonders for his love as she widened her legs more. Whimpering frustration puffing out of her when she tried to grab at him and sink him in deep. She threw her head back in irritation when he grabbed both her wrists and planted them firmly by each side of her. Tutting, his eyes and breathing growing heavier at the sight of her. 

Solas was starting to see why control appealed so much to her.

Her own eyes were half-lidded, teeth clenching and releasing as her breaths passed through. Her chest rising and falling rapidly, hair spread around like the perfect frame for the desperation of her expression. His own cock aching as he continued to tease her entrance. No matter how much he wanted to throw himself inside the heat of her, the opportunity for the upper hand in these circumstances was so rare for Solas. He wanted to savour it, badly.

“I wish you could see what I see my love.”  
“It must be quite the view, since you still aren’t fucking me yet.”  
“Don’t speak so crudely of what we have ma’fenorain. You know how it wounds me.”

A small twinge of guilt did cross Moro’s features, her head pushing up. The most she could do with his hands pinning her down. The gesture clear to Solas as he leaned down to meet her lips, the kiss gentle and sweet. Both of them sighing into each other, hearts melting at the affection.

“Ir’abelas ma’lath,” Moro whispered the words against his lips like a prayer, her mouth brushing softly against his own. “Forgive me?” She jested, knowing full well what his answer would be.

Though the answer came as lips pressed firm against her jaw as he finally shoved the whole length of himself inside her. His hips shoving her own down into the bedroll beneath them. ‘At last’ he was sure her moan translated to. A shuddering, mutual but muted noise of pleasure as they remembered themselves. That they were not alone, that Sera and Cassandra slept not too far away. And the last thing Solas wanted was for the Red Jenny to hear them. He would never hear the end of it, especially with Moro endeared by the child. 

When he pulled himself back out till only the tip remained, he hushed his blushing and panting love as she whined for him to take her as he properly should. Thrusting back in with harder force, repeating the motion with a roll of his hips. Moro’s hands clenched into fists as he still pinned her down, his own pulling her wrists up higher to hold them both with one hand. His now freed one pulling her leg high for a deeper fill. A deeper feeling.

“You’re going to kill me one of these days.” She moaned as her climax pulsed and pulled through her, more quiet and mellow than some of her others but just as intense. Her fingers uncurling as she enjoyed it, the waves of those pleasures intensifying with Solas still thrusting inside her.

“So dramatic.” He muttered between thrusts. His hips twisting more sharply, slower and deeper he went as he could feel himself nearing.

Moro chuckled low in her throat before her eyes widened with a reminder, thighs squeezing Solas’ hips to draw his attention.

“Vhenan, not tonight.” She spoke in hushed tones, trying to pull him free from her when her point was not understood straight away. Grateful when he released her hands.  
But Solas was still hard and aching, and Moro wasted no time as she crawled to him, taking the entirety of him into her mouth. His deep guttural groan and hands sinking into her   
hair spurring her despite her exhaustion. Cheeks hallowed and head bobbing up and down relentlessly to bring the man to his own end. 

Solas dared a glance down at the woman working wicked wonders on his cock, a elvhen curse leaving his lips when he was moments away. Because Moro could sense it too, placing the head of him on the flat of her tongue, mouth opened wide as her hand worked the base of him. Amusement plane and wicked in her eyes. Moaning quietly enough that she could not be chided to.

“You shameful, shameful woman…oh…Moro, Vhenan…I’m…” 

It was a horribly delightful sight to see himself spend in her eager, waiting mouth. This woman was a terrible influence on him. Her hand squeezing every last drop he had to offer.  
Moro hummed her approval as she swallowed, taking him back into her mouth longer before resting her cheek against his hip bone. Her hand sliding up his thigh and giving his rump a harsh slap, jolting him awake from his post-orgasm drowsiness. 

Yes. A terrible, wonderful influence.


	9. I think your pregnant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RaynRomantica wanted a "Your pregnant!" Prompt after i made some hypothetical headcanons for Ramia and Abelas lol
> 
> So here ya go  
> Not as fluffy as she or anyone would expect it to be :P

She didn’t wait long to tell him, she never liked keeping anything from him. It was one of the many pleasantries of their relationship. They were ridiculously honest with each other.

Despite her uncertainty to her speculative predicament, she felt it necessary to let Abelas know all the same. It would be a constant worry in Ramia’s mind otherwise.

They were camping, a meal shared and water boiling for an evening tea that would ease sleep for him. The day had taken its toll on Abelas, and the dried and heavy scented leaves Ramia had introduced him to were greatly appreciated. 

He hears the flapping of the tent and her footsteps crunching against twigs and pebbles as she came to sit beside him. Her eyes were downcast and her bottom lip chewed between her teeth when Abelas looks at her.

She had been seemingly fine for days now, and this current timid demeanour made him alert, worried. Abandoning the boiling water to take her hand in his own.

“You are troubled. What has happened?”

Ramia was staring at the fire, fingers tapping against her belly as she tried to put words together. Each sentence assembled in her mind scrapped, finding a way to say what she _might_ have discovered difficult to come out with.

“I haven’t had my cycle for…some time,” Her hand squeezed his when he slowly understood what she meant. “I don’t know for sure…I have been late before but…”

“You never laid with a man before, until me…”

“Yes.”

“I understand…”

It was a silent agreement between them. Neither of them were either ready or willing to bring up a child in the midst of an upcoming war. Abelas rose, venturing to their tent and returning with a small wooden box.

He pushed aside the herbal tea he would have initially used for the water, now slowly bubbling. Ramia’s curiosity gone when she saw the threatening looking roots and herbs held inside the box.

“We have been as careful as we can,” Abelas spoke in hushed tones as he prepared a brew with a pinch of each ingredient from the wooden box’s contents. “But accidents can happen.”

“This…is going to taste like feet isn’t it?” Ramia asked, happy to see the small humour reflecting in Abelas’ eyes as he stirred the pot.

“I wouldn’t know, if you are lucky it might.”

“Lovely…”

When a cup filled with the tea was handed to her she couldn’t help but scrunch up at the scent. It smelled foul, rotten. The idea of drinking it making her stomach churn. But she had to, even if she wanted a child it would be foolish to have one now. But she couldn’t help that twinge of sadness lurking at the edge of her mind, even more so when she looked up to find Abelas lost in thought. The arch of his brows hard as his fingers dug into his knees.

“Abelas…do you think…if things were different we could-”

“Don’t. Please…”

“I’m sorry.”

Ramia tried to shrink away from him but a hand curled around the back of her neck, his eyes looking more into his own thoughts than at her. His thumb brushing against the skin behind her ear.

“Things are uncertain da’lath’in…I do not dare think of such things…I do not want to hope…”

“Not when either of us could die?”

“Precisely.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know,” Abelas whispered, his lips brushing against her brow. Guiding her through drinking the offending liquid. The tea hard to go down as she gagged at the harshness of it. “I know…”

“Abelas.”

“Yes fenor?”

“This tastes like fucking feet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me more prompts or look for me here: mindtrove.tumblr.com


	10. Abelavellan- ModernAU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A modern take on Abelas and Ramia
> 
> This one centering on how they would first meet, if you like it you can send prompts or ideas for more centering on this here: mindtrove.tumblr.com
> 
> Ramia and Moro are both mine and feature in my main story Promise & Odyssey (in thhat order)

“It’s fairly small don’t you think?”

“True, but I’ve been out of the field for a good few years.”

Abelas and Solas stood outside The Octagon, an odd name for a building that wasn’t built in the shape it was named after. That hardly mattered however.

“Besides lethallan, look at the location! About a ten-minute walk from the campus, and glass walls. The organiser clearly understands the important details.”

“Advertising was quite well done as well,” Abelas agreed, scrunching his nose at the waft of cigarette smoke that wafted close by from a pedestrian. “I’m sure there will be plenty to come to Friday’s viewing.”

Solas smiled, nervously however. He had made the sacrifice of concentrating on his studies and his new job as a history lecturer at Val Royeux’s campus of their most esteemed University. Allowing his personal artistic talents and pursuits to slip through the cracks. It had taken some coaxing, but after encouragement from friends he picked up the old brush and even mustered up the courage to enter his latest piece for exhibiting.

It was terrifying as well as exciting, especially since he had yet to meet the woman behind the event.

“What was the name again? Lavellan?”

“Yes Moro Lavellan, an art dealer mainly, but she holds these events every now and then. Prefers students for these exhibits.”

“So this is a charity event…wonderful…”

“Abelas…” Solas chided.

“Come on, let us see go inside. Before I catch frost-bite.”

Both men shuffled quickly inside the building, it felt even smaller with people running left and right. Students old and young getting their paintings, photographs or whatever other form of art they were going to display ready. 

Despite the chaos there was a warm feeling within the building, most of the artists were very young and from the university. Most of them probably didn’t dream that such an opportunity could come and yet it was happening before their very eyes. Their enthusiasm and happiness resonated throughout the room and kept everyone’s spirits high.

Even Abelas couldn’t keep up his grouchiness when students would accidently bump into him.

“So where is yours?” Abelas asked, clearly not wanting to stay for too long. He had promised his support to Solas in this venture, but he had many duties of his own. Good grades required study after all.

“Ah yes! Sorry,” Solas was directing them further down, he had wanted as good a position for his painting as possible. He had attended enough exhibits to know it could drastically effect how much viewing you could get. At least he had convinced himself of as much. “It should be…right…oh…oh no.”

“What is it?”

“My painting! Where is it?!”

Solas was in a panic, which for him was darting side to side like a meerkat as he searching frantically for his painting. His eyes widened to saucers when he finally found it, his legs bending at the knee as he tried to remain calm. His eyes glaring daggers at the wall his painting now resided on.

“Nice painting.” Abelas complimented, only now seeing it for the first time.

“It could be the painting of the Rebel Queen and it wouldn’t mean-” Solas seethed through clenched teeth. Stopping himself before he reduced to profanities, breathing deeply and rubbing his temples.

“I am confused Solas…what is wrong with this location…?”

Abelas regretted his question the moment he finished it, his friend standing almost hip-to-hip as Solas placed his hands on Abelas’ shoulders. Face a bit too close for his comfort.

“Do you feel that?” Solas asked, staring intently at the air around them before landing back on Abelas.

“I feel something alright…” Abelas muttered, checking to make sure no one was staring.

“It is cold!”

“And that is bad…because…?”

“It’s cold outside! This is closest to the entrance, which means this part of the building is colder, which means people will not want to stand around here for too long, that means _LESS VIEWING TIME ON MY PAINTING_!”

Abelas opened his mouth to speak but Solas had already started spiralling down. He grasped his friend, trying to snap him out of it before he reached the path of no return.

“I knew this was a foolish idea…”

“Solas this will be fine, perhaps there’s someone we can talk to? The official viewing is still two days from now.”

Solas nodded solemnly, not entirely convinced as he continued to stare at his painting. Abelas left the man for now to search for someone in charge. He really wanted to go home, but another look at his friend’s kicked-puppy expression pulled at him in a way that made him groan internally.

The things one did in the name of friendship…

It seemed almost impossible to find someone-anyone in charge, until he came across a short chubby elf carrying a large box filled to the brim with all sorts of crafting materials. She was shouting orders left and right, speaking soft words of encouragement to every student she walked past and complimenting others. She was also very smartly dressed compared to everyone else here in her black suit-like pants and flowy white blouse. She was his best bet to approach, and so he walked in quick strides.

He coughed loudly to get her attention. When that didn’t work he tapped her shoulder, jumping slightly at the quick turn she made as her long curls whacked against his stomach. Immediately met with a large toothy smile.

“Hi sweetie! Are you exhibiting as well?”

“Um…no, I am here with a friend who is exhibiting. Solas.”

“Oh you’re with Solas? His painting’s _beautiful,_ my mother adored it. We did have it at the back but we brought it up to the front instead. She wanted it to be one of the first things people saw when they arrived.”

The girl stared at him intently with all the friendliness one at her station should show, voice sickly sweet as she spoke to him. She gave him a waiting smile, knowing he was about to complain about something.

If Abelas wasn’t being paranoid, he could swear she already had a comeback ready. Something about that particular glint in her eye. His resolve to settle this matter for Solas slightly waning.

“Yes…well…my name is Abelas and my friend-Solas,” he cleared his throat. He always hated making complaints, avoided it as much as possible. “He is not entirely happy with the move, so to speak. Is it possible if he could have his old space back?”

“…..”

The girl continued to stare at him as she registered his request.

“…..” Abelas cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly it felt like the entire room had gone quiet. “…Please…?”

“His old space back?”

“Yes.”

“You wanna move the painting?”

“Yes…”

The young woman made a hard v with her eyebrows, re-adjusting the box in her hands.

“No.”

Abelas grumbled, his eyes catching Solas as he squatted and looking utterly miserable. Taking another deep breath.

“It would really mean a lot if you could, surely you can make an exception? I’ve seen how kind you been to all these students and-”

“Listen honey, just because you’re a tall glass of water that doesn’t mean I’ll just changed things around if you ask nicely and butter me up.”

“Tall glass of…” Abelas didn’t have time for insults…or compliments, whatever that was. He wouldn’t relent. “Give me one good reason why you can’t be flexible.”

“I can give you five actually!”

“…”

“Gimme a few minutes and I can make it six if you like.” She threatened, cheeky smile and all.

They both stared at each other, neither backing down. Abelas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before relenting, body language admitting defeat. He made his way back Solas’ side again, giving the man’s shoulder a squeeze and relaying the bad news. Solas buried his face in his hands and he sighed harshly into them, disappointment loading onto his shoulders. Both unaware of eyes that watched them from afar.

Abelas felt dour, the girl seemed a nice sort but he supposed they both just had to accept the end result. He just hated seeing the look on Solas’ face, after how happy and excited he was when they first arrived.

“Hey!”

Both of the turned to the voice, the girl Abelas had previously been speaking two standing before them. She gave a loud sigh, lips pressed to one side.

“Ms. Lavellan will be here tomorrow, I’ll tell her about the situation tonight and you can try convince her tomorrow.”

The offer was directed more at Solas, clear in her tone that it was his job to make sure he got what he wanted. A small sparkle of hope returning to him as he nodded his thanks and shook the girl’s hand with both of his own.

“Thank you.” Abelas said, smile small but visible enough to make the Exhibitor’s daughter scoff.

“Yeah yeah… **you** can pay for my first drink at the bar when the exhibit opens _Abelas.”_ She declared.

Before he could even respond she was already on her way and back to work. Solas was on his feet with a bounce back to his step. Gratitude in his eyes as he grabbed both of their bags and prepared for them to leave.

“I don’t know what you did lethallan but…thank you.”

“I do not know what I did either…”


	11. Solavellan- ModernAU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So i got requested to do a drunken kiss for solavellan so I thought i'd make it a continuation to the modernAU I did for Abellan

“Val Royeux is a…tough crowd to please, so it seems.”

“Hmm?”

“The visitors, I have to admit to not taking your advice not to eavesdrop near my painting, when others view it. Some of the critiques have been…”

“Unfair?”

“In a sense.”

The gallery had gone well- no, better than well, the place had been bustling with viewers throughout the night. The reception however to Solas’ work was mixed, on the lines that most did not seem as keen on it as they were with other pieces within the gallery. Which had gotten to him.

It was getting later in the night, at which point all the gallery exhibitors and staff could freely consume what was left at the bar. Leaving most of them buzzing and much more relaxed. Even Moro seemed to be much laxer, a wine glass in hand and a smile for Solas when he came to sit beside her at the bar.

Solas wasn’t ungrateful for tonight’s turn of events, he felt incredible in fact. To return to “the game” as it were and for things to go as smoothly as it had was more than he could ask for. Moro seemed understanding of his frustration despite it all as she ordered him a drink, ignoring his insistence not to.

Especially when she saw his eyes light up at the bright pink concoction the bartender placed before him. Moro pegged him for someone who liked alcohol that didn’t actually taste like it.

“Frescos aren’t very common which was what caught my eye to it in the first place,” Moro took another long sip of her wine, draining the glass. “I suppose people here don’t take an interest in styles they are unfamiliar with. Harder to bullshit like you know what you’re talking about that way.”

Solas snorted timidly, this Moro woman was a strange sort. Her poker face at the best of times mixed with her hawk-like gaze made it so that he was always taken aback when she used crasser language. But she was very matter of fact, and blunt as well. Something he always appreciated in people.

“But after this, it’s clear people in Val Royeux have a preference for sculptures.” Moro gestured for another drink as she carried the conversation, crossing a leg over and revealing the whole expanse of her leg offered by her choice of attire.

Thick thighs Solas noted, until he mentally chided himself. Glaring at the cocktail in his hand and placing it down. How much alcohol was in it, that his mind sent him down **those** sort of thoughts?

_She did look lovely though, he thought._

Solas was taken from his musings when Moro slapped his shoulder.

“Stop looking so glum! It’s been a good night.”

“Yes, you are right. I am being much too pessimistic.” Solas agreed, withholding the desire to rub his arm. The woman was stronger than she probably knew, and he would have felt silly regardless.

“Besides, someone bought your fresco.”

Solas almost fell out of his seat, staring with excitement and shock at the woman.

“Who?!”

“Me.”

“You?! Why?”

Moro shrugged her shoulders, taking another gulp of wine. Her face flushed and showing signs of inebriation. Snorting at his question like the answer was obvious.

“Because I like it.”

_Perhaps it could be that simple._

“Well…I…thank you, I am unsure what to say.”

“You can tell me your number.”

“What?”

Moro rolled her eyes. Putting her drink down and resting her head in her hand as she leaned on the bar table.

“I have people who’d want to commission you, if frescos are your thing. So cough up your number.”

“Are you always so forward?” Solas inquired with a smile.

“I’ll probably blame it on the drink tomorrow.” She quipped back.

After exchanging numbers, they both looked ahead. The young girl from two days ago, that Solas now knew as Ramia and Moro’s daughter was deep in conversation with Abelas. Abelas for once Solas noticed, did not seem to be in a discussion and show signs he wanted to be anywhere else. Something he had not seen in the young man for a long time.

Her daughter on the other hand was like a bright like in a dark room, face full of emotion and expression. Hands moving haphazardly to accompany whatever she spoke about. Smile beaming on her face as she carried their conversation.

“How old is Ramia?”

“She’ll be twenty-two in the spring. Which reminds me, I’ll have to call her father and organise something soon.”

“You are both on good terms then?” Solas asked but immediately scolded himself. It was none of his business and he was ready to explain as much in an apology. But Moro got to him first with narrowed eyes and a grin.

“Look at you getting all nosey,” She joked, waving her hand for Solas not to take her seriously. “Yes we are, her father’s too much of a pussy cat to hold grudges.” Moro put down her glass and dusted herself off.

“Right! I have some schmoozing to do, so…” Moro pulled Solas close to slap a kiss to his cheek, leaving a bright lipstick mark in its place and patting him on the other cheek. “Have a good night Solas.”

He was frozen in place, his hand coming up to touch where her lips had been. Staring off into space and questioning whether what had happened had actually just…happened.

“Sir…are you going to finish that?” The bartender asked.

Solas kept his wide-eyed stare as he searched for his drink. Downing the entire thing in one swig and watching Moro stalk across the room to her target of interest.

“What just happened there?” The bartender asked, witness to the entire thing.

“I…have no idea.”


	12. Abelavellan- ModernAU (Lap)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted with Abellan for the Nonsexual acts of Intimacy meme on tumblr:
> 
> ♗: One falling asleep with their head in the other's lap.

“Come on! You said if I helped you’d watch Phantom of the Opera with meeeeee!”

“There’s still more to do Rami.”

“Are you serious?! You’ve done an entire essay! Come on you can spare two hours and twenty-six minutes can’t you?”

Abelas stared at Ramia’s pouty face, blinking twice before cocking his head to the side.

“That is an incredibly and frankly weirdly accurate length of time.”

“I know how long the film is…so what…”

Abelas rolled his eyes, closing the lid of his laptop and bending over the bed to reach for one of his textbooks. Ignoring the jolting from Ramia bouncing up and down, continuing to plead and whine. Couldn’t she pick any other time for this? He had so many assignments due the same week.

“Isn’t watching movies you have no interest in more your boyfriend’s job than mine?”

“Nikolas?” Ramia snorted like Abelas had said something utterly ridiculous.

Granted Abelas wasn’t too fond of Ramia’s new boy of interest, there was always a new face every few months, with relationships ending before they had even begun. Not that she could be blamed he had learnt, a lot of students at college wanted relationships to move at a lightning speed pace as far as the bedroom department was concerned.

He only wished Ramia could learn to sense those sort of men and women before establishing anything with them. He hated seeing how upset it made her when things never worked out.

Nikolas so far had seemed a decent sort, even if he wore more cologne than Abelas’ nose could tolerate and didn’t understand personal space. But as he feared from Ramia’s reaction to his inquiry, she had nothing in common with the man. At least not enough that she couldn’t share her love of anything related to the theatre with him.

“Nikolas…doesn’t really like musicals…he thinks they’re _stupid...”_

The mention of her boyfriend seemed to sour the mood slightly he noticed, Abelas wasn’t Ramia’s only friend. Granted, he would be counted among one of the closest which meant he had on more than one occasion been subjected to these films. Although there was a charm to them, much like her. Which is probably why she liked them so, and why on more than one occasion he indulged her.

Abelas sighed when he her face only seemed to become more and more sulky, grabbing the DVD and holding it up, pointing it directly at her.

“As soon as the credits roll you are turning it off,” Abelas groaned as he rose from the bed and opened his computer up again, connecting it to his TV. “Gods Ramia how long have you had this?!”

The CD had definitely seen better days.

A small cheeky laugh was his only response as she snuggled into the blankets, giddy and back to her usual cheerful self. Which made Abelas feel a lot better.

“It’ll work don’t worry, just press play!”

 

* * *

 

The film seemed to go on for ages, the songs weren’t too bad but the premise of the film didn’t really pull at Abelas’ heart strings. So to speak.

His books had been long abandoned on the floor. The only light source in the room coming from the blaring light of his laptop screen, so he retrieved his glasses not to damage his eyes.

“I do not see what the big fuss is about his face, I’ve seen worse…although that probably says more about what kind of films I have seen.”

When no answer came he looked down, Ramia fast asleep on his lap. Curled up tight like a cat, murmuring and snoring softly.

Abelas was about to pause the film when Ramia’s phone began to ring, her boyfriend’s name displayed in large bold letters on the screen. The loud ringtone almost waking her up.

The last thing he wanted, when Ramia looked so peaceful and content in this moment, was to disrupt that with whatever Nikolas had to say.

With a frown and a small bit of contempt he put Ramia’s phone on silent, shoving the phone under the covers to disguise the vibrations.

With a soft exhale he leaned back against the headboard, pressed play on the movie and smoothed the curls of Ramia’s hair. The girl humming quietly in her sleep and curling more against him.

Nikolas, studies and other responsibilities could wait.

The film wasn’t all that bad anyway.

 


	13. Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raynromantica wanted some Abellan proposal
> 
> And for once, Ramia not the one making the moves ;)

The curtains in the guest room Abelas and Ramia were currently occupying had thinly and soft patterns adorning them. This caused the morning light to shine into the room with a bright but pleasant heated glow in the morning.

The pair were wrapped and bundled in a never ending pile of blankets and cushions, save for Abelas’ legs that stuck out the ends. Easy to ignore with the smaller elf curled up beside him. The sight of her face pressed comically against the pillow with her mouth hung open was a pleasant view first thing in the morning.

When Abelas finally decided that if he must be awake then so should Ramia, he flicked at her forehead. Her furrowed brows and irritated grumbles followed as she slowly returned to the waking world. Eyes glaring hard at him as she pulled the cover over her more tightly.

“Who dares wake me from my slumber?”

“Your heart.”

“Funny,” Ramia yawns. “My hearts telling me I would love to sleep more, unless you’re talking about yourself.”

“Ma’lath…”

“Yes sugar shins?”

Abelas snorted at the terrible pet name, pulling the covers away and replacing the heat they provided with his own body. Ramia giggled, both of them pressing their lips repeatedly against each other.

Abelas simply stared at her when they ceased their kissing indefinitely, his hand brushing strands of curls from her face to gaze longingly at her. It was early, too early for any of the servants to come. The windows were open, the sounds of birds chirping and a cool breeze billowing the curtains all a perfect background to the woman before his eyes. His heart pulled at a longing question on his mind, he saw the knowing look in her eye. Patience, curiosity melded together as she let him form the words, to say what he wanted to say and say it right.

“Ramia…”

“Yes…?”

“Would you…ever consider, marriage?”

Ramia blinked a few times, registering the question before a cheeky smile graced her face. A giggle bubbling as she sat up and moved into Abelas’ lap. Peppering his cheeks with kisses to hide her blushing.

“Is that a yes? It would not have to be soon of course but…”

Ramia was scurrying under the blankets before he could finish, going still. Abelas stared at the lump under the covers, confused and amused.

“Ramia?”

“Yes.” She muffled, her blushing face peeking out from under the covers.

Abelas smiled, leaning down to press a kiss into her hiding face. Anxieties gone, replaced with love, more than he could have ever have hoped to feel in a long, long time.

 

* * *

 

 

[Find me on tumblr <3](mindtrove.tumblr.com)


	14. Come Upstairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EmmG wanted drunken Moro&Solas kisses
> 
> I went down a fluffy route

“Come upstairs.”

“No.”

“Solas.”

“I’m perfectly content where I am vhenan.”

They had been bickering like this back and forth. Moro had returned from the tavern and headed straight for the rotunda where she knew Solas would be. For a man who valued sleeping, he was quite the night owl, and it did not surprise her to find him there with his nose in a tome.

She sauntered into the room, fingers grazing the desk aware of his eyes watching them glide across the wood as she made herself comfortable on his loveseat. Reclined, loose deep v neck robe, hand keeping her head propped up as she stared straight at him.

When her request for his private company hadn’t worked, she always played the coy card. Worked most of the time, although most of the time Moro wasn’t drunk. Which she was right now, hard to tell for most but Solas had learnt. Her eyes gave it away, pupils blown wide and glassy as she roved over his form.

“Don’t be so difficult.”

To be honest, Solas found this amusing. To know even under so much inebriation, Moro was still highly averse to heavy public displays of affection.

“I am not being…diff…are you…pouting?”

Moro tilts her face away, whacking the air with her plait and sulking. Solas only shook his head and continued to read his book, eyes shifting every now and then back to Moro, who continued to sit bored and idle on the couch. Eventually he heard her defeated sigh as she rose, Solas watch her slowly leave the room. Feeling a tad guilty, he could read the anxious body language emanating from her and stood up and walked over to her.

Moro turns at the sound of padding feet along the floor, sees Solas’ arms open up in invitation. Her kiss is sloppy and misses, catching him in the corner of his mouth before moving to his lips proper. Hands cupping his jaw and whispering for him to change his mind and join her. She grumbles when he still says no, but the kiss placates her enough not to further any argument. She smiles when he presses one last kiss to her temple and walks her to her room. The travel littered with small gestures all innocent. Promises of more to come.

Once she sobered up of course.

* * *

[Find me on tumblr](mindtrove.tumblr.com)


End file.
